


The Mirror

by Eligh



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Awkwardness, Doppelganger, Fluff, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-07
Updated: 2012-04-07
Packaged: 2017-11-03 05:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/377862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eligh/pseuds/Eligh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick finds a mirror in his trailer that lets him talk to the female version of himself from an alternate dimension. Oh, and she's pregnant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> Originally prompted from Dreamwidth Kink... original fill here: 
> 
> http://grimm-kink.dreamwidth.org/3689.html?thread=1766249#cmt1766249

Nick was absolutely sure that Marie’s trailer was actually the TARDIS—well, maybe not with the time travel (though he wouldn’t really be surprised) but it was definitely bigger on the inside. In fact, he’d just found yet another cabinet that had been hidden by curtains, and that made, what, five? He jiggled the lock on his newest find and considered what he should do. He didn’t have any keys other than the one Marie had given him originally, but the lock didn’t look _too_ sturdy.

 

He glanced around to see if there was something he could hit it with, (who was he kidding, of course there was) and his eyes settled on a mace. He shrugged to himself—probably not its original use, but hey. A quick swing and a crunch of rusted metal later, and Nick was free to look in the cabinet, which contained… a mirror?

 

He reached behind him and grabbed a pencil from his desk and very gingerly touched the mirror with its pointed tip. (He’d learned months ago that just because something in the trailer looked benign, that didn’t mean it wouldn’t actually try to eat your hand if you touched it accidentally.) There was no change in the reflective surface, so he took a breath and poked it with his finger.

 

The glass immediately rippled and he yanked his hand back, but after a moment, the movement stopped, once again reflecting the room behind him. But something was off—he peered into the mirror and abruptly realized he couldn’t see himself.

 

“Oh shit,” he said. Had he turned himself invisible? God, Monroe would never let him hear the end of it…

 

But then a shape moved across the mirror and Nick gasped, jerked back, looking behind himself wildly—he was still alone. “What the hell?” he said into the empty trailer, then turned back to the mirror, which was now occupied by a grinning, dark-haired young woman in her early thirties. Nick’s mouth fell open—the woman was… she had his same high cheekbones, same messily styled hair, same blue eyes.

 

“Hi!” she said, and Nick made a disgruntled noise that was totally manly, in a very high-pitched, squealing sort of way. The woman laughed. “You must be Nick. Marie told me about you.”

 

“Marie told you…” Nick repeated, slightly dazed. “Who are you, exactly?”

 

“I’m Nicolette Burkhardt. I’m a Grimm.” She smiled at him again, and Nick pinched his nose between his fingers. He suddenly had a headache.

 

~~~

 

“So she said she was me, but in an alternate dimension or something insane,” Nick explained somewhat drunkenly, and Monroe watched with wide eyes as his exuberant storytelling almost made his beer slosh out of his glass and onto the couch. “And that she talked to Marie all the time, and I could ask her if I needed help, but I think I might be going crazy.”

 

“Nah, man,” Monroe mumbled, and plucked Nick’s beer from his hand, set it safely on the coffee table with a coaster. “Talking mirrors, sound familiar? I don’t think there’s that many of them, but that’s cool that both ends of the thing are with you, sort of.”

 

“Yea,” Nick agreed. He looked around for a second, confused about where his beer had gone. “But couldn’t Marie have at least left me a note? Something like, ‘Hey, there’s this mirror that lets you talk to an alternate you, who by the way, is female, and I’ve been talking to her and her version of Marie for years’? It was just a little… shocking.” He spotted his beer and picked it up, promptly spilling a bit on Monroe’s leg.

 

Monroe shot him a scathing look (that the Grimm entirely missed) and tried to wipe the moisture off his leg. “So besides the girl aspect, what else was different?” He took Nick’s beer from his unresisting hand and set it back on the table.

 

Nick slumped against the couch. “She said that Wesen are mainstream in her world. Everyone knows about ‘em. Us.”

 

“You’re not Wesen,” Monroe corrected gently, and Nick shrugged.

 

“Not really human, either.”  Nick leaned forward and grabbed his beer again, took a long swallow. “She said it was crazy, she’s like a diplomat between the Wesen and the Humans, always running around.”

 

Monroe sighed, resigned to losing the great beer battle. “How’s that working out for her?”

 

“Well, I guess,” Nick shrugged. “We didn’t talk too long, I was a little freaked out, and she said she needed to meet someone.” He leaned forward and yanked on Monroe’s collar, pulling him closer. Monroe’s eyes grew almost comically large, and Nick whispered, “She was _pregnant_ , Monroe. The girl me was pregnant.”

 

“Right,” Monroe said, and gently removed Nick’s hand from his collar, simultaneously plucking his beer from his hand again. “I think that’s enough alcohol for the night.”

 

Nick slumped back onto the couch, defeated. “You should come meet her, make sure I’m not seeing things.”

 

Monroe drained the rest of Nick’s beer and set the empty glass on the table. “Sure, man. Whatever you want.”

 

~~~

 

The next time Nick talked to Nicolette, she was calmly polishing what appeared to be a broadsword that was almost taller than she was. Nick recognized the weapon—its twin was resting in the corner of one of his weapons cabinets, and he couldn’t think of any foreseeable reason that he’d need to polish the thing, let alone _use_ it (at best, he could lift it about a foot off the ground, and of course Monroe had teased him mercilessly before swinging it around like it was made of balsa wood).

 

But this led to a question: “You still do Grimm stuff even though you’re pregnant?” he asked. “I mean, aren’t you supposed to be taking it easy or something?” He gestured to the sword, and Nicolette smiled at him out of the mirror.

 

“I’ve been slowing down a bit, and my boyfriend is ridiculously overprotective.” She shrugged. “But it’s his nature, and I’m sure I’ll appreciate it when I get farther along.” She dragged the sword back to its resting place in the corner and sighed. “And it’s not like I could ever lift that thing anyway.”

 

Nick felt slightly better about his manliness, and instead eyed her stomach. “You look pretty far along already…”

 

She patted her baby bump affectionately. “I’m having quintuplets. I’m only four months in so far.”

 

“Five babies?” Nick asked, slightly disbelievingly. She nodded and looked down at her stomach.

 

“I know it’s a lot, but we can handle it. You should see my boyfriend—I’ve never seen him happier. He’s gonna make a great dad.” She tapped her fingers on her desk and cocked her head. “Do you have someone?”

 

Nick looked down. “No. I mean, I did, but she didn’t—it wasn’t safe. She didn’t understand, and I didn’t want to put her through all this.” He waved a hand to his surroundings, and Nicolette nodded understandingly.

 

“Humans don’t really get it,” she agreed.

 

Nick smiled at her.

 

It wasn’t until later, when Monroe was griping at him about how he picked out the wrong wine to pair with stir-fry, _again_ , that he realized that Nicolette’s ‘humans don’t get it’ statement meant that her boyfriend was Wesen.

 

~~~

 

Nick was puttering around his trailer when he heard the gentle thrum from the cabinet that meant Nicolette was in her study as well. He hadn’t had a chance to talk to her since he’d made the boyfriend-is-Wesen connection, so he jumped up pulled the cabinet doors open, calling out, “Nicolette? You there?”

 

There was a pause from the other side of the mirror, and then someone who was decidedly not Nicolette slid into view. Nick stepped back, startled, and the mirror Monroe peered out at him.

 

“You’re Nick,” he said, and Nick ran his hands through his hair.

 

“Monroe?” Well, he shouldn’t be too surprised, not really. Hell, he spent almost all his free time with the Blutbad, so it made sense that Nicolette would have a Monroe as well.

 

Mirror Monroe shook his head. “Call me Ed.” He plopped down on a convenient chair and leaned toward the mirror. “Hey, maybe you can help me. Do you know where Nicki keeps her wolfsbane? She didn’t give me particularly explicit instructions, and since I can’t smell it…”

 

Nick laughed and pointed behind Ed to a small set of drawers that was decorated with ancient-looking runes. “Check in there, that’s where I keep mine.”

 

Ed flashed him a smile. “Thanks, man.” He turned and rummaged for a moment, emerging triumphant with a small glass bottle. Then he glanced at Nick, obviously wanting to ask something.

 

Nick smiled benignly at him. “Yea?”

 

After another short moment of hesitation, Ed asked, “Do you have a version of me over there? Am I a girl? ‘Cause if so, serious props for that.”

 

Nick laughed. “There’s a you over here, but you’re still a guy. I call you Monroe.”

 

Ed nodded slowly. “So… you’re gay?” He cringed at himself. “Sorry, that came out a little…”

 

Nick blinked. Hefelt like he wasn’t exactly following this conversation correctly. “Wait, what? Why would I be gay?”

 

Now Ed looked uncomfortable. “I mean, I just assumed… Nicki said that relationships on both sides tend to be between the same people, and since _we’re_ together, I figured…”

 

Nick sat back, floored. “ _You’re_ the boyfriend? Wow, that’s… unexpected.” His stomach was doing something funny, and he let out shaky breath, ignoring the thought in the back of his mind that that muttered that it wasn’t _really_ that surprising.

 

He cleared his throat, but when he spoke, he didn’t sound as sure of himself as he would have liked. “Monroe and I are just friends. We’re good friends, but I mean, we’re both straight.”

 

Ed snorted. “I’m not straight, so I bet he’s not either.” He then had the good grace to look horrified with himself for divulging that information, and gave Nick a rather helpless look.

 

Nick stared back at him, and after a moment of quite possibly the most intense awkwardness of Nick’s entire life, Ed shrugged. “Well, I’m glad you guys are still friends,” he said in a rush, then held up the bottle of wolfsbane. “I gotta get this to Nicki. I’ll tell her you said hi?”

 

“Yea, sure…” Nick forced out, and continued staring at the empty mirror for a long time after Ed had left.

 

~~~

 

“Monroe!”

 

The Blutbad in question looked up from where he was meticulously cleaning the tires of his car and squinted against the sun. When he saw who was calling to him, he rolled his eyes and went back to scrubbing. “What do you want?”

 

Nick sighed and leaned against the Bug. Monroe made a disgruntled noise (“Dude! Just waxed!”) and Nick raised his hands in surrender and stood back up. “I just had a conversation with mirror you.”

 

Monroe raised an eyebrow but didn’t turn his attention away from a particularly stuck-on oil spot. “Oh? Am I a girl, too?”

 

Nick felt an almost perverse feeling of smugness. This should be a good reveal. “No, actually,” he said, and then as nonchalantly as possible, continued: “You’re a guy, and you were the one who knocked mirror me up.”

 

Monroe’s hands faltered in his movements and he almost dropped his rag. He looked up at Nick, and asked, slightly strained, “What now?”

 

“Apparently… Nicolette and _Ed_ are dating.” Nick stuck his hands in his pockets and Monroe sat back on his heels, saying nothing, but looking thoroughly shocked. Nick let him have a moment, then said, “Ed assumed I was gay and that we were together. He said relationships usually stay the same between the two worlds. I’m assuming that keeps the worlds mostly on the same track.”

 

Monroe may have squeaked, and if Nick hadn’t spent the last hour having this exact same reaction, he would have called him on it. As it was, he paused again and let Monroe have a silent panic attack.

 

Finally though, Monroe took a breath and said, “Well as neither of us can get pregnant, our two worlds are about to have a rather large diversion.” He picked up his rag again, then paled and dropped it. “I mean, you can’t get pregnant, right? There’s not some weird Grimm anatomy… thing…?”

 

Nick grabbed at his stomach. “God, I hope not.” He dropped his hands and took a deep breath. “But then again, that would be assuming that we’d be having sex, which is _ridiculous_ , cause I’m straight and you’re straight, right? And we don’t think about each other like that.” He laughed weakly.

 

Monroe stared at him, then stood. “How about we change this horrible, horrible subject? You wanna get lunch? Let’s go get lunch. There’s a new Greek place I’ve been wanting to try.”

 

“Sure, yea,” Nick said hastily. Monroe dumped his cleaning supplies on the porch and they piled into the now shiny Bug, talking about anything that wasn’t the sexual habits of their mirror doppelgangers.

 

But as Nick bit into what turned out to be quite possibly the tastiest gyro he had ever had, he realized that Monroe’s abrupt change of subject had allowed the Blutbad to completely steer clear of the implied ‘Are You Straight and Are You Attracted To Me’ questions.

 

He choked slightly on his mouthful of lamb and Monroe patted him on the back, eyes wide. Nick waved him off. At least no one could accuse him of his life not being interesting.

 

~~~

 

It was a few weeks later and Nick was back in the trailer, talking to Nicolette. She’d started their conversation with, “Listen, I’m sorry if Ed freaked you out, I told him you weren’t seeing anyone, but he’s curious, he wanted to know about the other him…”

 

“No,” Nick said. “It’s okay. I was just thrown a little. I mean, Monroe and I don’t have the same sort of relationship you guys do. Just caught me off guard, is all.” He fidgeted and dragged his desk chair over so he could sit in front of the mirror.

 

Nicolette rolled her eyes. “He’s good like that—I don’t know how he does it, but everything that comes out of that man’s mouth is either painfully sarcastic or brutally awkward.”

 

“He’s a master,” Nick agreed, grinning. “Mine is, too.”

 

An odd look flashed across Nicolette’s face (if Monroe or Ed could have seen it, they would have classified it as ‘devious’) that Nick, not used to reading his own expressions, couldn’t place. But then she smiled and said, “He’s a real sweetheart under all the snark.”

 

Nick smiled back at her and silently agreed. Then mentally slapped himself for thinking ‘sweetheart’ about Monroe.

 

“So how did you know?” Nick asked, leaning back in the chair and fixing Nicolette with his most penetrating gaze. And yes, this was an uncomfortable topic, but since apparently Nicolette and Ed were going to be fixtures (however oddly) in his life, he wanted to know. “That you and Ed were… meant for…?” He waved his hand lamely in the air, and Nicolette smirked for a moment, but then rolled her eyes and answered him good-naturedly.

 

“I hadn’t really realized how much he meant to me until I almost lost him, and after that… well. There was this group of Lowen that were having underground cage fights. They kidnapped Ed ‘cause he was trying to get information on the fights’ locations, and forced him into the ring, and I showed up because he’d been on a call with me when they attacked him, and I _freaked_ out when his phone cut out… and…” She sighed. “After everything had died down, I went to his house and we had a beer and then I sort of jumped him.” She smiled, obviously remembering their first time together with pleasure. “He was intense. Blutbaden are… vigorous.”

 

“The Lowen games,” Nick mused out loud, shunting aside the image of a vigorously engaged Monroe and trying to ignore the odd feeling in his stomach. “I had something similar happen here, but without the, you know. Jumping. That happened the night of my anniversary with my ex, actually. I missed our dinner. She was upset.”

 

Nicolette gave him an incredulous look. “You put your Ed—sorry, Monroe—over your girlfriend? You know he’s a Blutbad, right? I mean, he can handle himself.”

 

“I wasn’t about to let anything happen to him,” Nick said shortly. “He’s… I owe him a lot, and we’re friends. Really good friends. I care about him.”

 

“Mmm-hmm,” Nicolette murmured, and pursed her lips. “Are you _sure_ you’re not gay? ‘Cause it’s okay if you are. He’s a very persuasive being.”

 

Nick smiled tightly. “I am not attracted to men.”

 

Nicolette smirked again. “Edward Monroe is not most men.”

 

Nick sighed and shook his head.

 

But that night, when he awoke, panting and rock-hard from a dream that had featured Monroe in some very flexible and naked positions, he wondered if he’d been lying.

 

~~~

 

“Dude, I cannot explain how horrifically uncomfortable this is,” Monroe groused, but Nick just shrugged and prodded him toward the mirror cabinet with his foot, his hands busy with carefully measuring the contents of several clear glass jars into one larger one. The mixture was slowly turning brown, so if he’d read the instructions in his books right, he was doing all right so far…

 

Still, he didn’t want to get his bottles mixed up (the illustrations in the books of what could go wrong with this potion were… gross, to say the least) so when the mirror thrummed, he’d instructed Monroe to get it.

 

“You need to meet her anyway, I don’t know why you’ve been so resistant,” Nick muttered, and Monroe shot him a look.

 

“You remember what happened when you talked to Ed? You were weird for like a week. Plus, she knows what I look like naked, and that’s just awkward, man,” Monroe said, but opened the cabinet anyway and forced a smile. “Hi, Nicolette…” There was a squeal, and Monroe shrank back slightly. Nick smirked and went back to measuring.

 

“Monroe!” Nicolette said cheerily. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

 

“Yea, nice,” Monroe muttered. “So… how’s, um.” He looked desperately at Nick, who resolutely ignored him. Monroe whined softly and turned back to the mirror. “Babies?”

 

“Oh God, you’re just as awkward as Ed,” Nicolette said affectionately. “It’s adorable, no wonder he likes you.”

 

Nick startled and over tipped the current beaker in his hand, accidentally dumping the whole thing into his potion, which immediately flashed orange and started smoking. “Shit shit shit,” he breathed, and then the beaker vaporized in a puff of noxious smoke. He jumped, and from behind him, Monroe snorted.

 

“Serves you right,” he said, and when Nick turned to glare at him, he found that Monroe had tilted the mirror so Nicolette could see his face (which was now covered in a healthy dose of pimples). She was hiding her laughter behind her hand.

 

“It’s ok,” she said after a moment more of giggles. “I haven’t gotten that potion right yet either.” She turned wide, earnest eyes to Monroe. “Maybe you can kiss him and make it better.”

 

Monroe choked on air and stammered a bit, and Nick felt his face flush. Maybe having the Monroes talk to their alternate Burkhardts wasn’t such a good idea after all.

 

~~~

 

Nick slammed into the trailer and started digging frantically through his books, looking for anything that could shed some light onto where the forest-fairies (and _Jesus_ they were terrifying, he should sue Disney) could have possibly taken Monroe.

 

Nothing in that book, nothing in this book, nothing, nothing, nothing… He let out a pained sob and rested his head in his hands, trying desperately to think…

 

A muffled voice floated toward him from out of the mirror cabinet. “Nick?” He swung around and flung the doors open, now facing a very concerned-looking Nicolette. “Are you all right?” she asked, and Nick shook his head and forced down another sob. Images of Monroe, bloodied and beaten, kept playing on repeat behind his eyes.  

 

“They fucking took Monroe, and I have no idea where he is, they’re gonna kill him, they’re gonna _eat_ him, and I… I can’t… He can’t die, Nicolette…” he scrubbed his hands over his face and tried to regain at least a semblance of control. “I don’t know what to do.” He looked at her helplessly, and she took a breath.

 

“Tell me everything, maybe I can help. I might have more insight, or the right books, or something.” Her voice was business-like, and Nick suddenly realized he was seeing what he looked like when he worked as a Grimm. It was a little staggering, but he felt the first flicker of hope since Monroe had been dragged off into the forest.

 

Nick started speaking in a rush, and Nicolette only interrupted to give him ideas or to clarify his (admittedly nearly incoherent) words.  

 

And later, when their brain-storm of searching abandoned mills turned fruitful, Nick didn’t even think twice about first shooting every one of the Feealptraumen in the head and then pulling a shaking Monroe into his arms and pressing a kiss into his hair.

 

A quick check proved that they hadn’t really gotten started—yes, Monroe was beaten, and yes, he was missing a small chunk of flesh from his leg, but all things considered, it could be worse. It often _was_ worse when confronted with a group of cannibals, actually.

 

Monroe was the lucky one—something a good dozen of Portland’s other Wesen residents could not say.

 

And when Monroe slowly stopped shaking and embarrassed, tried to pull away, Nick simply clung tighter and whispered, “You are not allowed to leave me.” Monroe mutely nodded, and then Nick was helping him up and away from the smell of death.

 

Later, after Nick put (a now bandaged and exhausted) Monroe into bed, he had to force himself out of the room so Monroe could get some sleep. He didn’t want to let him out of his sight—there was no way he was going back to his own house tonight. This had been too close.

 

Suddenly unbidden, a conversation he’d had weeks ago with Nicolette came to mind. “I hadn’t realized how much he meant to me until I almost lost him,” she’d said. Nick sank to the ground in the hall outside Monroe’s bedroom and rested his head against the wall.

 

He hadn’t realized, either.

 

~~~

 

Nick tapped his fingers on his leg and waited for Monroe to answer the door. Ever since the whole Feealptraumen thing, they’d been… well, Nick wouldn’t say _uncomfortable_ , but there had been subtext. Just boatloads of subtext. Mountains of subtext. Entire continents of subtext.

 

It hadn’t helped that Nick had put Monroe on the defensive by jumping every time the Blutbad touched his arm, or jerked back if their fingers brushed when Nick handed Monroe a cup, or the fact that Monroe had repeatedly caught him staring… Monroe turned Nick into a thirteen-year-old girl, apparently.

 

He’d tried to stay distant for a whole week—he couldn’t actually stay _away_ , that was asking the impossible, especially with Monroe healing, but he had successfully managed not to crash on Monroe’s couch in the past few days. He’d told himself distance was necessary to sort out the thoughts in his head, but he couldn’t do it anymore.

 

They needed to talk about this. Talk about the weirdness that came to a head with Nicolette and Ed, and how that was affecting them, and what they should do about said weirdness. Talk about how Nick had dealt with the Feealptraumen, how he’d almost ripped them apart to get to Monroe, what that meant.

 

This had the makings of an extremely awkward conversation, and since Monroe’s general technique for awkward situations was to disappear into his clocks, Nick felt that it was up to him to break the stalemate.

 

The door finally opened a crack and Nick breathed deep, letting the familiar smell of varnish and rosin and something delicious cooking wash over him. He fidgeted, and Monroe opened the door wider, eyes fixed nervously on a spot over Nick’s shoulder. _This was why they needed to talk_ , Nick thought with a sigh.

 

“Hey,” Monroe said. He opened his mouth to say more, then evidently rethought that and closed it. There was a beat of silence.

 

“Can I come in?” And Nick was aware that he sounded almost desperate, but everything had suddenly become so much clearer, and he didn’t want to talk anymore, he just _wanted_.

 

Monroe opened the door fully and stepped back. He was still limping slightly (he’d have a scar, but he was alive, so…) and used to wall to support himself. Nick stepped in and closed the door behind him, locked it with a quick jerk of his wrist. Monroe raised an eyebrow.

 

“What…?” he started to ask, but Nick reached out and pushed him gently against the wall. Monroe blinked in surprise, but let himself fall back, offering Nick no resistance.

 

“I’m sick of this,” Nick said quietly. “Pretending all this…” he glanced around the entryway. “That I don’t want this.” Monroe remained quiet, letting Nick explain, but gave him his full attention, his eyes wide and almost hopeful. Nick turned back to Monroe, let his gaze trail over the entirety of him, and didn’t miss the sharp intake of breath or the way Monroe licked his lips in response.

 

So Nick stepped forward, trapping Monroe against the wall of the entryway, and ran his hands down the Blutbad’s chest. “So here’s me jumping you,” he muttered.

 

“Finally,” Monroe growled, then leaned down and slid his hands around Nick’s waist.

 

They kissed deliberately, mouths only slightly open, tongues almost shyly touching. But despite the almost chaste touches, when Nick pulled back slightly, the brown of Monroe’s eyes was already tinged red.

 

“I can’t believe you want me, too,” Nick breathed, somewhat disbelieving, because in spite of all the evidence to the contrary, he’d come here today thinking he had a real chance of Monroe slamming that door in his face.

 

Monroe tightened his grip on Nick’s waist. “You’re an idiot, you know that?” But then he smiled and kissed Nick’s forehead, erasing the sting of his words. “But you smell good, so I guess I can let it slide.”

 

Nick laughed softly and tilted his head to kiss his Blutbad again.

 

~~~

 

“You were right,” Nick said, and picked at the hem of his shirt.

 

Nicolette gave him an exasperated look and sank slowly into the chair she’s set up in front of the mirror. She was huge at eight months pregnant, but still took the time to talk to Nick occasionally. He was grateful.

 

“What was I right about?” she asked, and Nick rubbed his hands over his face.

 

“Monroe, and what I…”

 

Nicolette nodded understandingly. “I knew you’d get there.  Have you told him?”

 

Nick blinked. Choice images of recent events flashed across his mind—mostly centered on his new instant arousal every time he stepped foot into Monroe’s front entryway. Also, the living room couch/floor, since they hadn’t managed to make if five feet past where Nick had originally started things. Monroe’s bed. Monroe’s shower. Monroe’s kitchen.

 

Mostly just, you know. Monroe.  

 

Nick rubbed his shoulder when Monroe’s mark throbbed steadily under his shirt and unconsciously shifted in his chair. “Yea, I told him. He was… enthusiastic. About it.”

 

When he met Nicolette’s eyes again, she was laughing. “That’s adorable,” she giggled. “You’re going to be so happy.”

 

Nick nodded and smiled to himself. But then he looked up, suddenly remembering his reason for wanting to talk to Nicolette today. “I wanted to clarify, since you really do seem more… with it? On Grimm stuff.”

 

She rested her hands on her prominent stomach and gave him a ‘go ahead’ look.

 

“Male Grimms can’t get pregnant, right? Or male Blutbaden?” Nick was perfectly aware how ridiculous this question was, but. He just wanted to be sure, is all. Just one hundred percent sure, ‘cause he wasn’t positive if he could take that level of weird.

 

Nicolette burst out laughing. “No, I don’t think so. One of you probably would have noticed a uterus at some point before now, if that was the case.”  

 

“Right,” Nick breathed out, relieved. “I was just, you know. Checking.”

 

~~~

 

Nick had had a shitty day. And he just wanted to go home to Monroe, but nooo, he’d realized at the end of the day that their perp was likely Wesen, which meant a night of research in the trailer. _But_ , he thought as he pulled his cell out and hit the ‘call Monroe’ icon, _there’s no reason I need to be at the trailer alone_.

 

Monroe agreed to meet him there for research help, but by the time they’d hung up, Nick had an entirely different activity for Monroe to help him with in mind. Some ‘stress relief,’ if you will. He glanced at his speedometer. Monroe said he’d be there in ten minutes. Nick could make it in twenty, so sex, _then_ research—guaranteed to make his day better.

 

He pushed his foot down slightly harder on the accelerator and took the turns to the trailer storage park practically on autopilot, a small smile on his face. Their relationship was just shy of a month old, and while they’d fully defiled every room in Monroe’s house, and most in his own, they’d yet to fool around anywhere a bit more adventurous.

 

And something about a Grimm and a Blutbad screwing while surrounded by hundreds of years worth of Grimm artifacts and knowledge just seemed deliciously improper.

  
Nick pulled to a stop outside his trailer, practically vaulted out of his truck, and half jogged to the door. “Hey Monroe!” he called out as he pulled it open. “Wanna break in the trailer bed? After the day I’ve had, I could use a good, hard fu—” he cut himself off with a sound that resembled an ‘eep,’ and turned a bright shade of red.

 

Monroe was watching him with wide eyes, his fingers pressed tightly over his mouth, trying to hold back his laughter. On the other side of the mirror, Ed had no such compunction, and was wiping the mirth from his eyes while laughing his head off.

 

“Right, I’ll just…” Nick stammered. “Weapons… truck…” he bolted out the door and Monroe finally gave in and started laughing.

 

“And they say _we’re_ awkward,” Ed snickered, and Monroe nodded in agreement. After a moment more of collecting themselves, Ed waved his hand toward the direction of the trailer door. “One more thing, and then I’ll give you guys some privacy.”

 

Monroe grinned at him. “I’m all ears, man.”

 

“Okay,” Ed continued. “This is guaranteed to make him melt. Let your claws out about halfway and run your hand down his spine…”

 

Monroe nodded, taking mental notes. He was looking forward to trying out Ed’s tips in the very near future.

 

~~~

 

Ed’s head sagged toward the table, his hand that was supporting a bottle going limp. The baby in his arms flashed wolfish, gave him a sharp nip, and he jerked awake. “I’m up, I’m up,” he muttered. “Demanding pup,” he yawned, and the baby (now fully human) happily started nursing again.

 

Across the room from him, Nicolette laughed tiredly. She was rocking a bassinet with each hand and another with a foot. “Remind me again how we thought this was doable?” she asked, then promptly yawned wide enough to make her jaw crack.

 

“We’re doing fine, Grimmlet,” Ed said affectionately. “And we’re prepared, and we have Hank and Wu to help us, and mom keeps sending us money and baby clothes, which is, you know. Nice. Especially since she’s smart enough not to actually show up. And they’ll grow fast—they’re all Blutbaden dominant, so they’ll be up and walking in a few months, and oh God why was I thinking that’ll be better?”

 

Nicolette laughed softly. “You’re crazy. Oh, Sean said he’d send over some hexenbiests to watch the kids tonight so we can sleep, if we wanted. He’s a sweetheart.”

 

Ed’s eyes widened. “Have I ever mentioned that it’s terrifying that you’re on a first name basis with Renard?”

 

“Oh, he’s not scary at all,” Nicolette disagreed with a smile. “Once you get past his complete unchecked power.” Ed snorted, and Nicolette looked thoughtful. “Did you know that his mirror in Nick’s world is the Chief of Police? He’s Nick’s boss, but I don’t think Nick knows he’s Wesen.”

 

Ed furrowed his brow. The baby in his arms had fallen asleep, so he stood and gently placed her in her bassinet. “You haven’t told him?”

 

“I think we’ve interfered enough,” she said softly, and stood quietly to check on the rest of the kids. They were all sleeping, so the two parents snuck out of the room. “Our worlds aren’t the same at all, really. But they’re together now, so that’s good.” She glanced back at the nursery and smiled slightly. “It’s not like they’ll be able to have kids, unless they adopt or something.”

 

Ed snorted. “Can you imagine what they’d do if they suddenly had five babies dropped in their laps?”

 

Nicolette shrugged. “Well I think we’re doing a good job, so stands to reason they’d be good at it, too.” Ed smiled at her, then leaned down and kissed her softly.

 

“Come on, let’s go to bed. We’ve got at least twenty minutes before someone wakes up,” Ed whispered, and Nicolette flashed him a filthy smile.

 

“If we hurry, I might have a chance to show you how much I appreciate your stellar parenting skills,” she said, and shrugged her shoulder out of her sweater, revealing a bright red bra strap.

 

“Stellar parenting,” Ed repeated, grinning, and followed her down the hall to their bedroom.

 


End file.
